


Gravity

by serein (koshitsu_kamira)



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Bathroom Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Facials, Fluffy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Lingerie, M/M, Pet Names, Secret Relationship, Smut, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koshitsu_kamira/pseuds/serein
Summary: Some things, like Moon Taeil, are irresistible.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Hansol accidentally discovers Taeil's secret penchant to dressing up when he walks into his room late night to the ribbons wrapped around his thighs and wrists, tight stockings hugging his bare legs.

The last thing Hansol wanted to do on a wintry Friday afternoon was idling in a car, fighting exhaustion by drinking stale, overpriced coffee, the artificial sweetener, the synthetic vanilla flavour inside the drink cloying his throat, worsening the fatigue induced headache while he attempted getting out of the capital, slipping through the congested traffic before the rush hour commuters hit the roads. Glancing at the dashboard clock, impatient, he fiddled with the radio, skipping the news stations that all broadcasted the same follow-up stories about the power abuse scandal, choosing an innocuous music channel instead; humming under his breath, head bobbing along to the cutesy bubblegum pop track, Hansol took a right turn as the light flickered green, coasting down a quiet alley. Ilsan neighbourhoods generally provided a boring sight: amidst perpendicular streets and uniform high rise buildings which crowded, blocked out the gradually darkening horizon, wispy clouds, there was scarcely any place left for variety, irregularities, a splash of colour against concrete grey, the muted quicksilver hue dancing across tempered glass window panes.

Steering the car toward the underground parking facility, Hansol nodded in greeting when the guard wordlessly allowed him to pass over the security gate, having recognized the younger man from previous encounters, the biweekly family dinners he kept attending, although the gatherings weren’t the most delightful occasions, full of political discussion or intrusive questions, neither topics he particularly enjoyed. Regardless, he still joined the dinner table without missing a single meal lest his mother decided intervention was required - during his university years Hansol learned the hard way exactly how determined parents could be once they had established their precious son was neglecting filial duties, avoiding the warm family nest to join lousy parties and guzzle soju bombs of dubious quality. Hansol had guessed, past age thirty, the military enlistment, he would be beyond the parental influence, supervision, but life proved him otherwise: his mother remained intimidating, even compared to drill sergeants, the senior lieutenants who visited the barracks every so often, therefore he consciously made the effort to fulfill the visiting quotas possibly required.

Grabbing the dessert he had picked up after work, a fluffy sponge cake affair buried under a mountain of whipped cream that Hansol knew his mother would adore, he locked the car and took a cursory glance at himself, combing the stray tresses away from his forehead; sigh deep, he finally stepped closer to the doorbell, looking straight into the camera, having adapted a genial expression. Ringing the bell, he waited a few seconds, before the screen flashed white and a petite woman in her late fifties appeared, features delicate, regal, thin lips stretched around a wide smile, “Good evening, aunt Yoojin,” Hansol greeted his mother’s oldest friend, tone respectful; “You have come just on time, darling,” she responded kindly, pressing a button to grant him entrance, then faded out of view. A short elevator ride later, Hansol reached the 11th floor, arriving to an extravagant foyer, complete with marble tiles, handmade oriental rugs, gilded chandeliers, and postmodern artworks decorating the wall, aspects which gave a clear indication what kind of people inhabited the building, granted the real estate prices were lower than the Seoul average price level. 

“Long time no see, my son,” welcomed his mother, voice cultured, standing motionless in the doorway, posture upright, looking strict as usual, gaze only thawing a bit for she caught sight of the pastry box, the elegant logo belonging to her favourite confectionery, “How very thoughtful, honey,” she exclaimed, satisfied, eventually letting Hansol inside the spacious apartment. Leaning down to kiss her cheeks, Hansol murmured some quiet niceties that would normally appease his mother’s ire, watching her reactions closely unless her infamous temper flared abruptly - Ji Haneul was a steadfast woman whose rather conservative stance regarding certain subjects never really changed, sensitive topics like sexual preference, gender identity included. She was the strongly opinionated type, the fastest person to bluntly communicate, assert her opinions notwithstanding the general trends, beliefs their mainstream society had embraced, or the delicate feelings of the opposite party, therefore when Hansol confessed he might appreciate females and males equally, she first asked whether he was joking, then ordered him to get lost. Their relationship became a minefield of taboos and unspoken words ever since, the rift between them widening inevitably, considering his mother had refused accepting the facts, stubbornly insisting Hansol would soon forget this peculiar fancy, “ _ Pull yourself together, son _ ,” she said, the sneer on her face startling, “ _ Remember, you are not a child anymore. _ ” Until now they hadn’t revisited the issue, both afraid to disturb the uneasy peace they settled into: Hansol would diligently show up on the blind dates his mother arranged, act pleasant, courteous, maintaining the facade of a perfect family, an ideal son, assuming the duty his status implied, though sometimes, on nights sleep wouldn’t come, he pondered whether living a lie was truly worth the hassle, if happiness was attainable on the other side. Sadly, Hansol would forget the conclusion upon daybreak, slipping back within old patterns, the motions he knew all too well, letting inertia rule over him, break the will clamoring for immediate change - learnt helplessness, he reckoned, must be the greatest invention of modern civilizations, serving as a ready excuse, a logical sounding explanation whenever one simply gave up.

“What are you doing in the foyer, my darlings?” lamented aunt Yoojin, indignant, having spotted mother and son in the hallway, “Dinner is scheduled at seven, meanwhile you should make yourself at home,” she fretted, gesturing the butler to fetch the cake Hansol carried, ushering her guests to the living room afterwards, where the family heads discussed the current political issues. “Hansol, go freshen up,” Yoojin suggested, halting midway, and patted his shoulder good-naturedly, “the drive must have been strenuous, right?” she mused out loud, the glint in her eyes knowing, shrewd, “you are welcome to use the guest bathroom,” she offered, the suggestion entirely innocent, except for the strange lilt of her tone that denoted implications the younger man wasn’t inclined to contemplate. Murmuring a perplexed “thank you,” bow curt, Hansol quickly excused himself, then strolled down the brightly lit corridor, keeping his pace measured, lazy, biding his time till the women joined their husbands in the salon, the click-clack of stilettos having vanished, and nobody could witness him entering a room which obviously wasn’t intended for the odd visitors dropping by to exchange aimless pleasantries.

Closing the door behind him, Hansol perused the empty interior, gaze skimming over the textbooks scattered on an unmade bed, the expensive clothing articles strewn careless about the otherwise immaculate place, the clutter a dead giveaway regarding the owner of the suite - chuckling, he grabbed a cotton shirt, casually throwing the garment into the laundry basket. “Taeil?” he called softly, peeking inside the dim gardrobe, frowning when he found the closet deserted, the prepared outfit resting untouched above the dresser; wandering around, uneasy, Hansol stopped in front of the bathroom, grin satisfied, victorious as he discovered the whereabouts of the boy who someday would inherit the largest conglomerate in South Korea. 

Knocking lightly so he wouldn’t startle the occupant, Hansol pulled the handle downwards, brazenly invading the lavatory, only to pause, caught off guard, stare riveted on the astounding sight he accidentally unfolded, the petite silhouette of Moon Taeil, a delicate lace corset hugging his torso, revealing the sweet curves usually hidden beneath loose sweaters. Following the elaborate floral details, the satin ribbon glimmering in the light, Hansol’s attention strayed on the frilly garters holding the gossamer stockings in place, glance tracing the sensuous lines the silken material accentuated, the subtle bend and arches of Taeil’s toned calves, full thighs, the slightest indentation the elastic band caused just under firm buttocks. Finally looking up, he met the younger’s nervous eyes through the mirror, appreciating the bright flush coloring his cheeks, the submissive dip of his spine - the Moon heir was mostly seen wearing a nonchalant expression that radiated pure confidence, self-assurance despite his young age, diploma freshly minted; even Hansol hadn’t glimpsed his vulnerable side notwithstanding the long hours they had spent fooling around.

“Did you doll up for me, baby boy?” Hansol asked, teasing, still, he approached Taeil carefully, movements cautious, restrained, conscious of how this fragile situation could become disastrous, potentially ruinous due to hurt feelings, bruised pride; “You look pretty,” he whispered, voice soft, hovering near the other man, mesmerized, and watched goosebumps flourish across gilted skin. Blinking slow, teeth worrying his lips vibrant red, the younger peered at him, suspicious, “Thank you?” Taeil uttered low, fiddling distractedly with the frilly hem of his bodice, posture gradually relaxing, allowing Hansol to caress his jawline, the gentle touch later meandering between collarbones, fingertips trailing the embroidered motifs, reverent, warm palms ultimately settling on rounded hips. Spying their reflection ahead, Hansol leaned down, tucking his chin in the smooth crevice of Taeil’s neck and shoulder, wordlessly studying the fine picture they made, admiring the shadows his tall form casted upon bare skin, the matching darkness echoing within the younger’s hazel orbs, “Do you want to play?” he queried, pressing a chaste kiss behind the other’s ear.

Shaking, Taeil nodded, the action subtle, body slumping in the elder’s snug embrace, yielding, “Don’t make a mess, please,” he murmured, pouting sheepishly, “I don’t want to change again,” - unbidden, Hansol imagined the other man getting ready for tonight, gingerly selecting the pieces he would don after shower, the fleeting thought inducing a fond smile. “Alright, princess,” he replied, amused, snickering as the younger grimaced, forehead creasing with annoyance, his no-nonsense personality filtering through the momentary discomfiture; “Hurry up,” Taeil countered, sounding testy, “we don’t have all day,” turning around, he tugged on Hansol’s collar, drawing the taller man closer, “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

Hoisting Taeil on the vanity countertop, Hansol crowded the younger against the mirror, then kissed away complaints and biting remarks about his inconsideration - “ _ it’s cold, you asshole _ ” - smirking once the other man whined quietly, chasing his mouth, grip tightening involuntary on the suit jacket, trimmed nails burrowing into his nape, the resulting pinpricks of pain heightening his arousal. “Behave,” Hansol warned his partner, inhaling the frantic gasps that escaped Taeil’s chest, licking off the moisture having condensed on plump lips before he worried the tender flesh between his teeth, playful; “Tell me,” he said, tone raspy, commanding, “What do you want me to do?” grinning at the sudden hitch of breath, he tapped the younger’s chin, petting him like one would a guileless kitten, “So?” 

Pupils dilated, swallowing the translucent brown of Taeil’s irises, the boy sighed and glanced up, meeting Hansol’s eager gaze, “Suck me off,” he uttered, blush intensifying due to the indecent words, “please,” he added, legs clenching beneath the elder’s hands, muscles flexing when his lover hooked a finger inside the lacy shorts, languidly pulling the sheer fabric lower, knuckles grazing his erection. Kneeling on the tiles, Hansol draped the younger’s thighs atop his shoulders, crawling near until his entire torso was aligned with the sideboard, face cushioned by velvet softness, feeble skin which gave easily under a hint of pressure, retained the marks he had left, tinted rose, gleaming wet from saliva; blowing cool air over the bruises, he enjoyed the tremble in Taeil’s limbs, the intoxicating power he was granted. “Please,” the younger muttered, hold stiffening on Hansol’s nape as the other man lapped up the beads of precum trailing down his length, tongue glossing past sensitive nerve endings, veins protruding, fresh blood having flooded the area; keening, Taeil attempted keeping still, but he couldn’t help trying to move towards the inviting heat, hips instinctively rolling while the elder fondled his sack, gently massaging the globes contained. 

“Behave yourself,” Hansol chided him, thumb rubbing the slit insistently, smearing the clear liquid above the engorged head, “Now hush, baby boy,” he suggested, eyes molten, covetous, then simply drew Taeil into his mouth, swallowing him deep, throat constricting around the considerable girth, and revelled in the wanton moans the younger emitted, the volatile cadence of his voice bouncing off the walls. Nose buried in the other’s crotch, he took more of Taeil, lips straining, burning with every shift below, each uprise motion that provoked breathy whines, low groans, the sounds muddling Hansol’s mind, clouding his senses; establishing a brisk tempo, he tongued the ridge, scraping his teeth lightly across the surface, causing the younger to buckle in his firm grip. “Hansol,” the boy wailed, desperate, sob pitched high, egging on the elder who quickened the pace, sucking hard once, twice, cheeks hollowed, thumb dipping beyond Taeil’s puckered rim, thrusting in, before the other gasped, spine arching off the mirror, spilling within his lover’s welcoming mouth, thick seed flowing down his throat, the scent of sweet musk filling his lungs. Heaving, the older man rose, knees wobbling, steadying himself against the counter, and let Taeil wind unsteady arms over his neck, engaging Hansol in a dirty kiss, licking sloppily inside his mouth, whining as the elder forced him atop the vanity, pressing quivering legs along his torso, essentially folding the other’s pliable body in half, then unfastened his own trousers - “Stay still,” he instructed. Pumping his erection, Hansol pushed between the younger’s plump inner thighs, grinding onto Taeil’s softening cock, warm groin, muffling the helpless cries, moans of overstimulation with his swollen, bruised lips; hips canting forward, pelvis smacking on the boy’s tight ass, he growled, increasing the speed, eventually losing the measured rhythm, the lewd noise of their actions echoing in his ears. Exhale heavy, on the brink of precipice the elder hauled Taeil upright, propelling him to kneel, face raised toward Hansol’s crotch, waiting patiently for the other man to finish, mouth ajar, eyes at half mast, expectant, watching his partner jerk off, grip snug, features distorted; leaning back, he let opaque ropes of white paint his fluttering eyelids, smooth brows, sculpted cheekbones, smiling in contentment.

“Good boy,” Hansol praised the younger, breathing erratic, sweat beading his forehead, brushing away the stray droplets above delicate eyelashes, feeding his lover the semen afterwards, and gulped dry when the boy laved his finger clean, gaze hazy, obscene; helping the other stand, he cradled Taeil near, supporting their combined weight, dropping his chin on damp tresses. “We should get ready,” he whispered, hoarse, chuckling as the younger man protested sluggishly, mumbling he would rather sleep, then burrowed into Hansol’s shoulder, exhaustion visible, “your mother will look for us, baby boy,” sighed the other, cajoling, meanwhile he grabbed a towel, wetting the cloth so he could make both of them presentable, “princess?”

Detaching himself, Taeil pouted, but otherwise complied with the elder’s wishes, “I hate that petname,” he complained, petulant, glance miffed; laughing, Hansol pecked his blushing cheeks, dropping the soiled linen in the basin, “You are my princess though, aren’t you, Taeil?” he teased, delighted at the pleased flush betraying the boy’s honest feelings, “so cute.” Swatting him, the younger man stormed out the of the bathroom, mutely slipping into his outfit, avoiding Hansol’s eyes, flustered; stepping close, the other straightened his collar, fixed the buttons, combing a hand through his disheveled hair and pulled him in a hug - “Thank you,” Taeil said belatedly, posture sagging, the tense lines of his body mellowing, before he pressed a kiss on the elder’s chest, just under the collarbones, a silent apology.

“By the way,” Taeil started, tone amused, as they were about to enter the dining room, “your fly is still undone,” he winked, giggle tinkling when Hansol hurriedly checked his slacks, then began struggling with the zipper tab, conscious that the family butler was hovering in his periphery, clueless whether he should offer some assistance; “payback time, honey,” the younger declared, smirk impish, leaving the other man outside the corridor.


End file.
